Deep Time

Dylan Shearer, Heidi Alexander

Deep Time

It's not just their personality that recommends them. It's the tunes, mate. Just listen to the new-wave polka-soul-serenading madness of "Gold Rush," the toe-tapping Italo-mutation of "Sgt Sierra," the easy-listening doom-incantation of "Gilligan" … every song on the record is a bon-a-fide catastrophe for the forces of predictability and boredom.

DEEP TIME are that kind of rare phenomenon that is easy to miss in the modern rock carnival because they don't wear kabuki make-up or pour PBR on their head. Their bandwagon isn't a monster truck or a garish tour bus with a broken toilet, so you might not see it parked outside of the club. Still, jump on when it drives by. It's a sweet ride.

IAN SVENONIUS - 2012

Dylan Shearer

“There is a new specter among us. Dylan Shearer’s throaty baritone seems to have been borne on the slow-moving winds off some far-away coast. Plaintive and honest, his voice recalls Syd Barrett, Bill Fay, Skip Spence, and others whose words and melodies never seemed in a rush to get anywhere, yet always arrived fully formed in the listener’s ear nonetheless. Porchpuddles, Shearer’s second full length and first for San Francisco’s hodge-podge Empty Cellar records, is rare in its perfect timelessness. Sounds are heard and understood perfectly, yet the combination of these sounds is beyond a simple pop understanding. Songs of longing and songs of seeming indifference are bedded together seamlessly. Perhaps, questions about the record’s origin and its mysterious creator will abound, for taken at face value, Porchpuddles has little to no recognizable counterpart in today’s one-hit warehouse. Indeed, there is a new specter among us; let us all welcome in the ghost of the present.”